e was
determined to speak to him that very day and obtain the information
which Pista's mother had refused. Before darkness had entirely closed
in the physician really did appear, and entered the hut without heeding
the girl sitting on a bench near the door, perhaps without noticing
her. Panna waited patiently till, at the end of a long quarter of an
hour, he came out, then, with swift decision she went up to him and
touched his arm. He turned and when he recognized her, exclaimed in
surprise: "Panna!"

"Softly, Doctor," she pleaded with glance and voice, then added: "Tell
me frankly how he is, frankly, I entreat you."

"You have done something very, very bad there," replied the physician
hesitatingly, then paused.

"His life is not in danger?"

"Perhaps not, but he will be a cripple all his days. One eye is
completely destroyed, the nose entirely crushed, the upper lip gashed
entirely through, and two teeth are gone."

"Horrible, horrible!" groaned Panna, wringing her hands in speechless
grief.

"He will not lose his life, as I said, though he has lost a great deal
of blood from the wound in the lips, and the lost eye may yet cause us
trouble, but the poor fellow will remain a monster all his days. No
girl will ever look at him again."

"There's no need of it," she answered hastily, and when the physician
looked at her questioningly, she went on more quietly as if talking to
herself: "If only he gets well, if he is only able to be up again."
Then, thanking the doctor, she bade him good-night, and returned slowly
and absently to her father's hut.

All night long Panna tossed sleeplessly on her bed, and with the
earliest dawn she rose, went to her father, who was also awake, and
begged him to go to old Frau Molnar and entreat her forgiveness and
permission for her, Panna, to nurse the wounded man.

At the same time she took from her neck a pretty silver crucifix, such
as peasant women wear, a heritage from her mother, who died young, and
gave it to her father to offer to the old woman as an atonement. She
had nothing more valuable, or she would have bestowed it too.

"That is well done," said her father, and went out to discharge his
duty as messenger.

It was a hard nut which he had to crack. The old mother was again
fierce and wrathful and received him with a face as black as night; but
he accosted her gently, reminded her of her Christian faith, and
finally handed her the silver atonement. This